


A Part of the Narrative

by Ruby_Whistler (orphan_account)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Burr is my son, Enjoy!, Gen, Hamilton watches Hamilton, Hurt/Comfort, I might be a bit salty from reading through so much garbage, Platonic Lams, couldn’t be me, for some reason I always get Alex on the quiz, i am new to this fandom, imagine getting mad at a trope being badly executed so you write a fic, maybe because I write a lot when I’m frustrated, okay I’m not gonna write an essay in the tags, the deleted songs are here too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26180713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Ruby_Whistler
Summary: Hamilton and the important people in his life wake up in a room with some couches and a big screen. It is year 2035, the 20th anniversary of the musical. As you can imagine, things go down....Hamilton watches HamiltonI’ve seen so many people write fics like these, and I was kind of excited by the idea. This trope seemed really fun and had a lot of potential, but boy people really don’t lie when they call it cliché. So, I intend to write a fic that is not insufferable, with actual emotions, character arcs, relationships, and overall just do the best I can to subvert this terribly executed trope. There is a non-self-insert OC scientist who is only there to fix the plotholes of this trope.This project has been abandoned. I just lost all motivation for this sort of cliche plot, as well as writing these characters. Gbye.
Relationships: Aaron Burr/Theodosia Prevost Burr, Alexander Hamilton & Angelica Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton & John Laurens & Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette & Hercules Mulligan, Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Angelica Schuyler & Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler & Margaret "Peggy" Schuyler, Philip Hamilton & John Laurens, Thomas Jefferson & Angelica Schuyler, Thomas Jefferson & Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette, Thomas Jefferson & James Madison
Comments: 62
Kudos: 101





	1. or an introduction to year 2035

**Author's Note:**

> ( extended version of the summary )
> 
> Hello! Thanks for clicking onto this fic, here’s some more info for what I intend to do.
> 
> There will be no ships, platonic Lams because friendships are underrated, hurt-comfort, pure angst, Burr getting bullied, 3D emotions and complex characterization, and the characters just genuinely vibing to the songs. Just overall trying to take this to its full potential. Also, I am not the best writer, I am not English so despite knowing how to plan out a book and write characters, my style is not that good. Includes an OC that is not a 16-year-old girl, but instead a 34 year old scientist guy who only interacts with the story to have it not be one giant plothole. But I still love him and he is my son.
> 
> Please stan Lin, he’s a legend.
> 
> I will also not copy-paste song lyrics and it will hopefully read like an actual book. You can re-listen to the songs before reading, or you’re like me and you can know every word and every note anyways. There will only be lyrics when someone is reacting to a specific line, and when the songs deleted because I am including those.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Please leave a comment if you like it or have any constructive criticism.

The meeting room contained an unusual amount of scientists.

Not just any scientists. They were tired scientists. Exhausted, though the silent anticipation buzzed through the room like a bee that accidentally flew in through the window. So misplaced, so lost in the minds of such calm and collected people. None of them knew how to deal with it, which reflected in their silence.

The meeting room was located in a small building, on the edge of a small village, in the center of a small country located in the middle of Europe. The Slevinicians were usually forgotten, overlooked. After the slight re-shuffling of Europe’s countries, they were left with a few million people and a patch of land among the mountains, many languages left to be mixed into one. However, being unknown and underestimated has its benefits.

Especially if you’re part of a secret organization, that if revealed, would have half the governments of the world breathing down their necks.

To the people in the room, it felt like the wind from the window behind them was breathing down their necks. Despite how uncomfortable it made them, none of them wanted to be caught off-guard when the door was opened, and so, the stubborn people they were, all of them stayed stuck to their chairs. This stubbornness caused them to become the most advanced group of scientists in the world, though, and so it was somewhat excusable.

One of them glanced over at the calendar on the wall, seeing the circled date.

September 15th, 2035.

The door swung open.

A tall man with wavy brown hair entered, quickly sweeping back the bangs that were falling into his eyes. Without even a simple “hello” to start the meeting, he started hurling questions at his colleagues in Slevinic.

“ _Are they ready? Anti-sedative dispersed? Has the TV shown any signs of breaking? Are the machines oiled? Has anyone seen my_ -”

“ _Tomas_ ,” one of them interrupted, words heavily accented with a foreign touch. “ _None of us can understand a word you’re saying if you speak so fast. Half of us can’t understand your language well, especially after everywhere we’ve been_.”

Tomas bit his bottom lip, fingers sliding over the top rail of his chair’s backrest as he loomed over it. He had his usual clothes on, ones he wore everywhere, though they were usually covered by a white lab coat. He was visibly red in the face and his heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest.

He took a few deep breaths, feeling everyone’s eyes scan over him, with expectations he’s never seen before. After everything he’s been through, he should be used to this. He wasn’t.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he replied, now carefully articulating his words. “ _I should know better as the lead scientist. You all have the right to know what I’m saying_ ,” he said, sweeping his eyes over the group.

Michelle chuckled from the side of the room. “ _That was a really nice thing of you to say that. As if you weren’t the reason we’re all here_.”

“ _Ah, as in if it weren’t for me, you all could be doing something better_?” Tomas smirked.

“ _Tomas, act like a leader for once in your life_ ,” a man muttered, fingers drumming on the table.

“ _Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t understand what you said through that Icelandish accent of yours, Nicholas_ ,” Tomas shot back, seemingly a bit more relaxed, though his entire mind was screaming.

“Ha! After everything I’ve done for you,” the other man spoke with mock-upset in his voice, switching to English. “Is this better?”

“ _Absolutely not_.” Tomas sighed, his smile quickly disappearing off his face. “ _Everyone on position? Everything’s been checked at least three times_?”

“ _Tomas, you’ve checked it yourself. But yes, at least five times. You’ve been stressing out over this for… years, probably_ ,” another girl responded.

Tomas shot Michelle a look. “ _Have you seen my coffee mug_?”

“ _I’ve put it on your desk, filled with coffee. It might be a bit cold, but I knew you wouldn’t have had time to make it for yourself. I’ve also checked the voice and camera devices while I was at it_.”

“ _Michelle, you’re a gem_.”

Tomas made his way to the door on the other side of the room but halted when he heard one of his co-workers.

“ _You’re not gonna say anything to all of us gathered here? Really_?”

“ _Ah! How could I forget to give you all a speech_.” Tomas spun around, joke and sarcasm radiating off of him. He cleared his throat. “ _I could not have done this without you. I, Tomas Stehlik, am honored to have you all by my side today, the entire team that emerged from my former school club, now a science association who will get farther than anyone ever has_. The Goldfinch Association.” He left the last part in English, as he liked the ring of it.

“Now, to your positions,” his eyes sparkled with mischief. “I need you to understand that we have only one go at this, everyone. Do not throw away your shot.”

He shut the door behind him before the entirety of his crew could let out sounds of annoyance and disagreement. Groans and the sounds of exasperated exhales filled the room, Nicholas adding, “There it is! He’s done it again!” And Michelle letting out a frustrated, “I knew it.”

But all of this was in good fun, of course, and their boss’s slight obsession with the musical was more of a running gag in the office than anything else.

“I spent ten years spying on the Italian government scientists for this. And he still doesn’t seem to take any of us seriously,” a man with a thick Italian accent noted, much amplifying his slight frustration for the fun of it.

“Give Tomas a break. If this succeeds, it will be the biggest breakthrough in interdimensional and quantum physics in the history,” a woman commented, her eyes sparkling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So, this one is short, don’t worry, the other ones have 3500+ words each. This is more like an intro, and to have the story make a bit more sense. Oh wow, a Hamilton watches Hamilton that actually tries to make any bit of sense? What a novelty! Well, anyways. This is a bit of an introduction. Tomas is my child, but he is not at the center of this fic. He’s there to guide the characters and give the story more lore and context. Also, italic is spoken in Slavinic, a made-up language of a made-up country based off of the countries in central Europe. In the next chapter, the characters actually make an appearance! Whoo!


	2. or the reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the characters wake up one by one, meet their long-lost loved ones, Alex gets yelled at, and Aaron Burr almost gets a panic attack.

Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton blinked her eyes open, the soft light from the corner of the room illuminating the small piece of plastic she was sitting on. She lifted her weight off of the wall behind her, memories and thoughts rushing through her head.

Her children besides her bed. A blurry mind, grey hair, feeling her heartbeat slow down. She felt as if she could see Alexander… her dear Alexander. Perhaps delusional, in her last breaths, she saw him smiling at her before the world went black.

And now… she was here. Seeing a couple of couches, her hands smooth, feeling a strength like back when she was young. Ah, what was happening to her? Where was she? This was visibly reality, she assumed, as her brain cleared of a fog of confusion.

She didn’t even have the time to explore, as right when she stood up, she noticed another person in the opposite corner in the room. She didn’t recognize the man right away, it’s been so long since she’s seen him. However as he startled awake, she could hear his voice, and all of a sudden the realization hit her.

“What…? In damnation…” Aaron muttered, looking around.

He looked young, too… somewhere in his twenties, much like her. And he was similarly confused.

She took a step closer. “Mr. Burr?”

His head snapped up. “Mrs. Hamilton?” his voice was rather bewildered. “I-I don’t understand, I couldn’t breathe-”

“I know,” Eliza replied. “I’ve heard the message of your death. And I find myself in a similar situation… I haven’t seen you in a long time,” she noted, scanning the man.

Burr stood up, rather frantic. “I-I know. As you may recall, Jefferson chased me out of America. I had to move to Europe.” He fell silent, emotions whirring in his chest. His hands started fidgeting as he avoided Eliza’s eyes.

Eliza also had emotions regarding the man. How would you feel about the person who took away the most prized possession you had in this world? However, every day, the hatred, the grief, it faded. And it’s been years, a good half a century since the day. You can’t hold a grudge for that long. She had long forgiven him, as she understood it wasn’t his fault alone, and it wasn’t a choice he made consciously. It was a thing they both agreed upon, leaving her out of it completely, and it was their decision to put themselves in mortal danger. That the result had been her husband’s death, was what neither of them wanted, or so she assumed.

And she felt to be proven right when she could see the visible guilt and regret showing in Aaron’s usually blank features. Unlike hatred and grief, those are the types of emotions that only grow stronger, and you carry them with you to the grave.

And so even though there was an undeniable rush of unspoken feelings that grabbed and whipped her around like a hurricane, now that she was face to face with him, she didn’t carry out any action, or say anything harmful. She knew people who would slap him across the face. She wasn’t those people. She was Eliza.

“We might want to find a way out of here, Mr. Burr,” she noted.

He nodded, unable to speak to her just yet, as he has never been since that day.

They heard a loud cough, and immediately turned to see James Madison sitting a few feet from where Eliza had been, coughing into his sleeve. It was more of an instinct at this point.

“President Madison,” Elizabeth dipped her head in respect. “I know you are confused, but I’m sure we’ll find answers soon.”

Burr also dipped his head, although his cheeks heat up with shame. This was the last man he wanted to see right now. Well, maybe other than Jefferson, and Alexander, and… He found himself straying away from the point.

“Mr. Burr. I didn’t think we would meet again,” Madison spoke, voice sharper than anyone was used to hearing it. 

“Likewise,” Aaron responded, slight defiance in his eyes. He held his tongue as always, though he knew any other man in his place wouldn’t hesitate to show less respect. He was not any other man. He was Aaron Burr.

“Que se passe-t-il?” 

The three of them looked over to see Lafayette sitting on the ground, for some reason, seeming dizzy. “Que diable?” He looked up on them and quickly stood up, embarrassed.

“Excuse moi, I was just on my deathbed, I didn’t expect this,” he apologized, “Mrs. Eliza?”

“Bonne journée, Mr. Lafayette,” she said with a fond smile, reserved for men the likes of him. She’s missed all of Alexander’s friend group... though they ended up inevitably scattered to the winds. “It seems we are waking up from death. We still haven’t figured it out.”

Lafayette completely ignored James and glanced over at Burr. “Well if it isn’t the man who’s shot my friend! Though I’ve heard you’ve got more filth in your track record, haven’t you?”

Burr took a step back, visibly startled. “I promise, I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake. And as I assume you’re talking about treason, Jefferson wasn’t speaking the truth.”

James coughed in disagreement.

“Really? I heard you were going to shoot him too, though in a less official manner,” Lafayette scoffed, hands clenching into fists. “What, are you planning on killing all of my-“

“Lafayette, you died,” Eliza interrupted. “As did he. We have more pressing manners.”

Lafayette looked over at her, shocked. “Why? Aren’t you angry?”

Burr looked like he was about to die again. Eliza couldn’t blame him.

“Why would I? How does it help? Blaming people for your grief only makes it worse. He’s been through enough, leave the poor man alone,” Eliza replied quietly, to the men’s surprise.

The Frenchman’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment and he completely avoided looking at Burr. It was much appreciated, though Aaron could still feel the weight of his words, pushing him down to the ground, a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t know how he was going to survive this. He crouched down, hoping his unusually expressive body language would go unnoticed.

However, Eliza noticed, and after watching where her eyes were looking, so did Lafayette. Feeling an unexplainable wave of guilt, he stepped towards Burr and stretched a hand out. “Je suis désolé. I’m sure it was an... accident,” he said under direct influence of the woman’s eyes, though he didn’t seem sure about his words. 

Aaron felt even more miserable. He’s never had his expression give away so much about his emotions. This wasn’t like him, and it made him uncomfortable. Everything about this made him feel awful. This was a situation straight from a fever dream. Why couldn’t he have a moment of rest?

“James!” A voice came from across the room, as a man walked over. It was really like a fever dream to Eliza, seeing all of them so young again, Thomas’ curly hair wildly bouncing up and down. “What’s going on?”

James coughed into his sleeve, then straightened up. “We’re all waking up in this room. There’s also Mrs. Hamilton, Lafayette, and Burr.”

Jefferson’s smile dropped at the last name. He gave a dry chuckle. “Who?”

Aaron stood straight with his expression blank now, looking Thomas right in the eyes, which were straight-up burning with hatred. 

“Oh, right, our sweet backstabbing murderer son of a-“

“Jefferson, so nice to see you again! Mon ami!” Lafayette jumped right in between them, outstretching a hand. “Haven’t seen you in so long! Well, since I’ve heard you died. My sincerest regards.” He put on a smile, his posture awkward as the visibly irritated Thomas tried to stare past him and see into Burr’s face. 

“Mr. Jefferson, if you agree, we might want to try and find a way out of here-“ Eliza started, but got cut off again.

“Lafayette? I can’t believe my eyes!” a deep voice came from behind them.

They turned around to see no other than Hercules Mulligan standing there, in all his glory. Eliza and Burr shot each other a look, Eliza’s mostly a look of pity, as Burr looked more pale in the face than she’d seen him. It seemed as if he’d needed to take a seat.

As Hercules barreled forward and gave Lafayette a rib-crushing hug, she slowly snuck over the back and took Aaron’s hand. Maybe it was just because she didn’t need to witness more people looking like they want to beat him up. Maybe it was because she needed to get to the point quick, and these needless arguments were constantly distracting them. She guided him over to the couches, while James and Thomas were talking and Hercules was still crushing Lafayette at the reunion. 

Burr sat down, feeling just the tiniest bit relieved. He gave a heavy exhale. “I don’t deserve such kindness, Mrs. Hamilton,” he said, almost a whisper. Anyone who’d heard that could tell that he meant it.

She gave him a weary smile and walked back to the group. She didn’t need those memories resurfacing, better keep him out of sight. Lafayette seemed to be explaining something to Hercules, who looked less than enthusiastic. They were both looking straight at Eliza as they talked. She could tell what the theme of their conversation probably was, and she was happy Burr was on the other side of the room.

“Eliza!” 

Someone else then caught her attention. A tall woman gave her a gentle hug, a big smile stretching across her face.

“Angelica,” Eliza responded.

“You look amazing.”

“You too.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

Angelica embraced her tighter, her hand running across Eliza’s hair. “My dearest sister.”

Eliza let go soon after, seeing all the men staring at them. Angelica gave them a sharp glare, and then her eyes strayed over to the seats.

She made a step forward, and in singular moment, Eliza caught her by the hand. “W-Where are you going?” she inquired, as if she didn’t know.

Angelica stared down at her hand, then up into her eyes. “I’ll give someone a lesson.”

Eliza bit her lip. “P-Please don’t.”

After a few seconds, Angelica turned around and leaned back towards her sister. “If it makes you happy. Anything for you. You’re too good for this world, did I ever tell you that?” She managed a smile. 

“Thanks,” Eliza said, still a little shaky. All of those people she’s known were dead for years. It was overwhelming as anything. She felt at least a little better with Angelica by her side.

She could tell Burr was nervously watching the rest of the group, alone, trying to breathe properly and hoping no one would straight-up walk up to him and punch him. She’d felt a sudden urge to go check on him, but then she heard a voice behind her.

“...Eliza?” 

Aaron Burr let out a strangled scream, falling out of his seat. Most people’s attention shifted towards him. Not Eliza’s.

Her eyes were fixed on Alexander.

He stood up, drowsy, his eyes scanning over the group but focusing on Eliza. He gave a small smile. “Eliza...” he repeated

Without thought, she ran towards him and straight into his arms. She could hear Jefferson cry out and multiple sounds of joy behind them. But it all became but a background noise for her sobs, and Alexander’s heartbeat. Heavens, his heartbeat. Something she’s wished to hear again for such a long time.

Her world became a jumbled mess of words, speaking of how she did everything she could to keep him alive in the hearts of everyone. To make sure no one forgot him. To preserve his legacy. The pain she’s gone through, and lastly what was happening. She babbled on as she never did before, almost none of her words comprehensible. But Alexander was holding her tight, he was there with her, and it felt like he understood. He was the only thing she needed, anyways.

Angelica gave them their privacy, but Lafayette and Mulligan quickly rushed over to join the group hug. Eliza didn’t mind anymore. All she needed was Alexander. And he was there, he was there and he was breathing, and alive. 

At that moment, every last piece of anger she’s held towards Burr seemed to be flooded away, like excess debris after a hurricane.

While she hung onto Alex, sobs shaking her form, he looked over the group. Hercules and Lafayette already let go and stood back, smiling at the sight of their long-lost friend. It looked like they were about to cry too, but they held it back.

“Well, I see President Jefferson and Mr. Madison are here. What a pleasure,” Alexander remarked, seeing the slight fear in their eyes. Then his sight swept over to Angelica, his ponytail slightly bouncing on the back of his head. “My dearest Angelica...”

The woman stood there, watching him, frozen. Tears were rolling down her face. “How could you,” she whispered as loud as possible.

Alex’ eyes widened.“Angelica...?”

“Y-You just left her, you left  me . Goddamnit, you really only care for your legacy.” Bitter words flooded out, ones of hurt, that seemed to follow her throughout the years she’s been helping her sister. “How dare you?”

It was like a blow to Alexander’s chest. He was left speechless for a few moments, trying to blink away the tears of hurt forming in his eyes. “Angelica, I...”

The woman took quick steps towards him and embraced him from the other side, so Alex now had two of the Schuyler sisters hanging onto him. He could tell she didn’t really mean it, or maybe she did, but it wasn’t what she’d wanted to say. It was just the pain resurfacing from the last time she’s seen him. He couldn’t blame her.

He gave a defeated sob, eyes glazed over and reflecting the light, which was, unbeknownst to them, slowly gaining in intensity. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I should’ve listened to Burr for once... talking too much really was the death of me.”

“You might wanna tell him that,” Jefferson muttered, not-so-happy to see his enemy again, though he really didn’t wish for his death, more-so hoping he could see the man he really wanted dead go through more pain than he was already in.

Alexander ran his sleeves through his face to get a better look at the room. His eyes finally landed on Aaron, who was shaking, holding his face in his hands. His gaze softened upon seeing his old friend, though there was a ting of hurt in his chest. There wasn’t anger, there wasn’t fear, only pain, strong like a bullet stuck between his ribs.

“Aaron,” he spoke.

“N-No. Please don’t hurt me.” 

Hamilton stepped closer to the pitiful mess Burr seemed to be. “Calm down. No one’s going to hurt you,” he assured, causing his friends to go red in the face with shame.

Eliza hung onto Hamilton’s hand, smiling through the tears. She searched for forgiveness in Alex’ eyes, however you can’t forgive for something you only blame on yourself. And Alexander believed wholeheartedly that he was the cause of his own death. He agreed to it, after all. And then went on to do the very action that got his son killed.

Burr dared to look up at him, fear like never before in his eyes. It seemed like he was going to get a panic attack if something brought his trauma even more to the front of his mind.

Eliza clutched Alexander’s hand and pulled him back. She could see the guilt on his face, as he bit his lip. Whether because of Angelica’s words or Burr’s current state of mind, she didn’t know. Might be both.

She gave him a quick kiss in the cheek, trying to cheer him up. “I love you,” she whispered.

Alex gave a strained chuckle. “Love you too, Eliza.” He then turned to Angelica, who was trying her best to dry up her face with the dress she was wearing. “Come here, my favorite older sister.”

She stepped forward, held his hand, looked into his eyes, and gave a pained smile.

Alexander took a deep breath, and exhaled. “Alright. Have any of you an idea about what might be going on yet?”

“Not as long as I’m concerned,” Lafayette replied. “There’s soft chairs, and the lights have turned on. And we’re alive, most of us in our twenties.”

“Dad?”

Alexander’s breath got stuck in his throat. He felt something rising in his chest when he turned around and saw his son, his first-born son, looking around fifteen years of age. He was smiling at him, as if he’s missed him. 

He saw his parents’ expressions and quickly spoke. “What’s... what’s happening?”

The Hamiltons were immediately sharing a warm embrace as they all cried tears of happiness. Philip’s death was much like a thorn that they couldn’t get out, no matter how much they’d tried. So much guilt weighing on their shoulders.

Seeing all of these reunions, Burr couldn’t help but feel a bit uplifted as well. And even more aware of how much death takes, and how it leaves nearly nothing behind.

The boy struggled out of his parents’ grip, only because he felt a bit uncomfortable in front of everyone else. He turned to see the rest of the group, and gave a smile. 

“Hello, everyone! Hi, Angelica,” he exclaimed. He didn’t seem to know too many of them, by name at least, but Burr caught his eye from the corner of the room. “Hello, Mr. Burr.”

Burr flinched upon hearing his name again. He gave a weak wave. “H-Hello.”

Philip looked up at his father, frowning. “Is Mr. Burr alright?”

Alexander only shook his head, not in the mood to explain to Philip, and it seemed the same with everyone else. “My son. Philip Hamilton,” he explained with a shaky voice. 

Most recognized the name, and remembered the heartbreaking news that were inevitably stuck to it. “Hi, I’m Philip,” he repeated. “Though, I remember being older... I remember you being older,” he gestured to his parents, who didn’t have an answer to his questions.

Angelica came towards him and gave him a hug. Philip gave a happy chuckle. “Aunt Angelica!”

“Little Pip.” She held him tight. “None of us have any idea what is happening, dear. We’re sort of... alive again.”

Philip nodded. “Why are there couches?”

“What, would you rather sit on the ground?” a loud female voice sounded in the room.

Both Angelica and Eliza rushed over to Peggy, who was hanging onto them in return.

“Peggy!” exclaimed Alexander. This time, Alex was even more overwhelmed, as he was there when she’d passed. “I-I need to sit down.”

He sat down right beside Burr, ignoring the pure anguish in his expression. Philip held his Dad’s hand and sat next in row, eyes scanning over both of them. Neither of the men would wish to break it to him, for multiple reason. The boy was too innocent for this. He’d never thought either of them would want to hurt each other. And the mention of a duel could bring back unpleasant memories.

“You two might need some water,” Philip commented, oblivious. “We’ll need to find a way out of here.”

“Alexander!” Hamilton’s eyes lit up when he heard the voice. Almost the entirety of the room immediately recognized who it was, maybe besides Philip and Jefferson.

“John!” shouted Lafayette as he approached his friend, emotional as anything. “I thought I’d never see you again!”

Hamilton stayed frozen to his seat, even though John quickly looked back at him, after he finished shaking hands with Lafayette and Hercules. 

He came up to Burr and Alex. “What’s up with you two?” he spoke lightheartedly, though he presumed him coming back from the dead had something to do with it.

“Mr. Laurens?” Philip replied instead.

“Uh... yeah?” John replied, unsure who the kid was.

Philip’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Philip Hamilton. I’ve heard so much about you, sir.”

John gave a wide smile. “Well, look who we have here! The famous son of Mr. Hamilton. He talked a lot about you, even before you were born,” he said.

Philip nodded. “All of us have died, unfortunately. We all woke up here afterwards.”

“Oh,” John looked perplexed, unsure of what to think of it. “Has anyone tried ro find an exit yet?”

“We got kind of... caught up, in reconciliations,” Philip replied. 

“J-John...” Alex stammered. Burr stayed silent, even though John’s death had hit him almost as hard.

John leaned down and patted Alex on the back. “Alexander. So this is your little Philip? I want to hear everything that happened after me.”

“That’s exactly why you’re all here,” a loud voice echoed over the room, catching everyone’s attention. 

They looked around, thinking they would find another person had appeared, but they were wrong. The voice came from the speakers on the ceiling, the man’s English heavily accented. 

“Who is it?” asked Thomas Jefferson, startled.

“My name is Tomas Stehlik, I am not in the room with you, but my voice is being redirected to you from my own office. I would like you all to stay quiet and listen to me, if you’d like to learn more. It is year 2035, and I have made you reappear with the use of the most advanced science in the world.” He paused. “If you would like, you can take a seat. Please, be comfortable, all other questions will be answered later.”

“That’s so cool,” Philip whispered, talking about the fact that he was speaking even though he was not there. Everyone else was in shock.

“2035? That isn’t-“ Alex started, before Eliza shushed him.

“I believe you all know what a play is. I will now show you a type of play, which has been recorded with special technology and will be played on the wall that your seats are facing. I want you to watch it, because it will help you all get caught up on each other’s lives. It was created by a man called Lin Manuel-Miranda, and it is a musical, meaning every movement is a dance, and most of the lines are rhymed. The style of music is different than anything you’ve heard, but captions have been added to the recording, so you can understand what the actors are saying, even though the words are spoken quickly.”

As he talked, most of them obediently shuffled over to the seats. Laurens sat with Burr, Hamilton and Phillip in the back, the Schuyler sisters moving to the middle with Lafayette and Hercules on the second part of the middle section.

“You might notice most of you are younger than you were when you passed. That is because you all are the age you were when John Laurens died, except for Philip, who is 15.”

“How do you know our names?” James Madison questioned, still cautiously standing along with Jefferson.

“Well, the musical I’m talking about is actually about all of you...”

Jefferson’s eyes lit up, and he made his way over to the single chair in the very front, for some reason now willing to accept the stranger’s guidance.

“...with all due respect, Mr. Jefferson, that one is reserved for Alexander Hamilton. The musical is about him, in fact.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very emotion-heavy and long, I know. And they didn’t even start watching it yet. But I really wanted there to be some real tension, some real characters, some ongoing arcs which can be started in this chapter and finish towards the very end.
> 
> I am a bit sick of the characters making up in a single paragraph. Because that’s not how real people work. What they’ve gone through will haunt them for years, this book is more of a beginning of the road to recovery. The musical will let them confront their past and identify their feelings, which is the type of character arcs I’m going for here. Plus, some of them are hiding their emotions, and it will be only very specific moments when we get hints at what’s really going on inside.
> 
> On another note, them waking up is not a thing of ‘resurrection’ per se, it’s inter-dimensional and quantum science, aka tearing through the fabric of reality itself. Just wanted to let you all know at the beginning.
> 
> If you don’t understand the sudden tension between Burr and Jefferson (and Madison), don’t worry, you’re on the same page as Alex and Peggy. It will be explained to all of you later, it has something to do with what happened after the musical.
> 
> I also want James to be a bit more assertive in this than he was in the musical, because, well, he became president! And people change. So all the characters might be a bit different to show the overall progression of time after Alex was shot.
> 
> Either way, I hope you liked it! More awkward Aaron and innocent Philip in the next chapter.


	3. or trying to pretend everything is fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alexander starts crying, Philip falls in love with a guidebook, and Jefferson is annoying as all hell.

Jefferson was so shocked he forgot to be offended. Hamilton was so pleasantly surprised he forgot to be shocked.

Meanwhile, the rest of the room resounded in loud WHATs, and Burr sank deeper into his chair. Philip’s eyes sparkled in excitement as he clutched his father’s hand.

“Why, though?” Madison remarked. “No offense, but I don’t see why he should be the main character. He didn’t even live that long, or become president.”

Both Laurens and Philip glanced over at Hamilton in question, while Peggy started a whispered conversation with her sisters. James’ reasoning was quite a spoiler for some of them.

Tomas cleared his throat to try and catch their attention. It worked well enough.

“Hamilton may not have become president, but his life was still very interesting. His humble upbringing and flawed personality make him a rather sympathetic protagonist. The rest of you serve as major characters that play perfectly into his story. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Mr. Hamilton, you can go and sit in the front seat, while I explain some more,” the scientist said.

“Hey! What do you mean, ‘flawed’?” Philip was standing up, but Alexander quickly pulled him down. Burr would’ve scoffed at the question if he wasn’t so desperate not to draw attention to himself.

“Either way,” the voice came from the speakers again, “there is a new opening in the back of the room, with some water and paper towels, in case anyone spilled some. There is a button under each couch, to pause the musical and play it again if needed. There is also a notebook under the very last couch in which some things are explained.”

“Ah! Water,” Philip stood up, almost tripping over Laurens on his left side. He shot him an apologetic smile and glanced over the ceiling as if he expected someone to be stuck there. “Um... thanks,” he said to Tomas, before walking over to the back of the room.

“Mhm. Well, you can pick up the controls once you’re all settled. They work from any point in the room, they’re remote,” Tomas continued.

Philip came back with two plastic cups, one in each hand, and put them in Hamilton’s and Burr’s hands.

“Here. I hope you feel better now, Mr. Burr,” Philip said. Burr only gave him a tired nod of thanks. “I’m sure you’ll feel better after watching the play.”

Aaron highly doubted that. He took a sip, scanning the strange texture in his hand. It looked to be easy to spill, as too harsh a grip would bend the plastic inwards. An interesting distraction, for now.

Alexander smiled, pride in his eyes as he looked at his son. He stood up, tried not to make Burr spill his drink as he walked past, and made his way over to the front. It was a normal couch, but it made him feel like royalty.

Jefferson gave a scoff and sat down along with James Madison on the couch situated behind Hamilton’s and to the right, so they could all see clearly. James picked out the button and placed it on the armrest next to him. Behind them, the Schuyler sisters and Lafayette with Hercules followed suit.

Now that they were staring at it, some noticed the wall in front of them was unusually black. Unbeknownst to them, it was one of the biggest TVs on the market, though less expensive than one would think. It was simply a screen, hooked up to a PC hidden behind a potted plant.

In the last big couch, Burr sat with Philip and Laurens next to him, both too oblivious to be wary of him. For all they knew, he was Alexander’s friend, which made them a friend of his.

Philip took the notebook while Laurens scanned the remote control, which only had one button on it. As the teen opened the book, he noticed an introduction. A few words from Tomas Stehlik, as it was meant to be a guide for the essentials of the show. The first page was a table of contents, which caught Philip’s attention, but he caught himself and closed it in time for the scientist to speak again.

“Very well. I will play it now, try not to stop too much. Some of the actors say rather offensive things, but don’t take it personally, it’s meant to make the musical more entertaining. If any of you start a fight, I will have to have you restrained.” Of course, he’d never follow up on that threat, but he had to make sure they wouldn’t kill Burr while they were at it. “Everything else will be answered after it ends, or it’s in Philip’s guidebook. The musical is three hours long, so if you have to stop and get a drink, don’t hesitate. There is an intermission in the middle, but you can pause on it if you need a longer break. I’ll be signing off, for now. Enjoy the show.”

And with that, it began playing. The room was filled with excitement when they heard a different voice telling them to enjoy. They didn’t know what recording or phones were, but they couldn’t care less.

The stage was suddenly lit up, as a person walked onto it. He didn’t make it much farther as the whole screen froze.

“Who stopped it?” Alexander glanced behind him to look at everyone else.

“Alright, but why does the actor... look like... that?” Jefferson asked, still holding the remote.

Philip turned the first page, titled Actors, and read out loud. “The actors are of different races, heights, and looks than most of you are used to seeing in a play. Slavery has been abolished, and-“

“What?!” Laurens glanced over Philip’s shoulder, suddenly filled with energy. “Really?”

“Yes, it’s been for a couple of centuries, it says,” Philip replied.

“Can we play it, now,” Alexander asked, impatiently, though a smile was now on his face.

Philip nodded. “It also says that this actor plays Burr,” he noted.

Alex pressed the button, and Burr’s actor began reciting. The captions on the bottom helped a lot to understand what was going on.

Philip was the one who wasn’t looking too much, instead continued reading into the book, “Ten-dollar, means he’s on America’s new currency! My Dad’s on money!” he exclaimed. “As is Jefferson, and Washington.”

Jefferson wanted to protest against someone like Hamilton being on money, however, he had enough decency not to say anything while the show was playing.

“Laurens, who also plays me, Jefferson, who also plays Lafayette... this is Madison and Hercules,” he explained as the different actors told Hamilton’s story.

Everyone then listened with their breaths held in, the rhymes resounding in their ears. The strange colored lights seemed to add to the play’s effect.

Most of the people gathered didn’t know of Alexander’s story, and they were fully engaged in listening. Hamilton himself felt a tinge of sadness and wished he was in the back seat with the rest of his family, however, he’s grown numb to his history over the years.

Lin, the show’s creator and Hamilton’s actor, entered the stage. Philip didn’t even need to say anything, everyone knew it was him as he clearly stated his name. A wave of excitement rushed over the small audience, the song ramping up in volume.

The different actors solidified their roles, and no one said a thing until Burr’s line was spoken.

“Wait wait wait- who did what?” Laurens exclaimed, standing up and looking over the group. They were still too confused to recognize the actors, but the majority of them knew exactly who it was.

Philip grabbed his arm and tried to pull him down, slightly startled. “Shh! I’m sure it was an accident. Sit down, John.”

The other reluctantly listened. Aaron clenched his fists, trying to take deep breaths.

“Mr. Burr, are you sure you’re alright? We can pause and I’ll get you more water,” Philip said quietly, visibly concerned. Burr simply shook his head and tried to stare ahead, on the screen.

The rest of the group were kind enough not to say anything as the play progressed. The props changed, and people were walking on the street. Burr stood with a book in his hand, before Alexander came up to him.

“You look like you really looked up to him,” Jefferson commented, chuckling to himself at the irony.

“I didn’t! I wasn’t that impressed, I mean. And I didn’t punch anyone. Isn’t that right, Burr?” Alexander shot back.

Aaron almost choked on his water. “Well, I do remember you telling me you punched someone at our first conversation,” he answered, to-the-point as always. “Not the best way to make a first impression but, at least I was prepared for everything else.”

“Traitor,” Alex uttered jokingly, causing Jefferson to grin and Burr to flinch. He’s been called that far too many times before, and it stung all the same.

< “Talk less.” “What?” “Smile more.” >

Laurens chuckled. “That catchphrase fits you, Aaron.”

< “Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.” >

“Well, I think today we’ve concluded that everyone winds up dead one day, huh?” Alex joked again, still trying to uplift the atmosphere. And it seemed to help.

The revolutionaries ran onto the stage, looking drunk as can be. John chuckled at his lines, that guy’s had far too many. It was strange how everything rhymed.

< “Oui Oui, mon ami, je m’appelle Lafayette!” >

Lafayette’s face flushed red when his character started speaking. Alex and Hercules laughed, others soon joining in.

“I didn’t really speak like that, did I?” he asked with genuine embarrassment.

“...Maybe? This just makes it sound more funny than it was,” Peggy replied.

“Ooh! Get insulted by the lady!” John shouted, to which most of the group laughed.

They watched the strange movements of the different characters as they staggered about. Burr blinked when he got booed by the actors in the show, but no one seemed to notice. It was just really funny, how they moved and talked, everything to the beat.

< “If you stand for nothing, Burr, what will you fall for?” >

Alexander hummed in agreement with Lin’s worlds.

That’s the point though, isn’t it? If you don’t fall for anything, you can continue to walk without a problem.

Though Burr knew he’d fallen, farther than anyone could get back from. Was that a lie, then? Can you fall, even if you stand for nothing?

My Shot began to play, and Alexander’s number was beyond anything he could write, it felt like. Eliza started to cheer, her sisters joining in, his friends and son soon after. The only people who stayed quiet were Burr, James, and Jefferson. Though they couldn’t help but at least tap their fingers to the beat. It was extremely catchy.

< “The unrest in France will lead to Onarchy!” >

John snorted. “What?!”

< “Wait ‘till I sally in, on a stallion, with the first black battalion! >

“Well, I tried my best,” John noted sadly. “There is only so much one man can do.”

< “Geniuses, lower your voices…” >

“Burr ruined it, as always,” Lafayette said, rolling his eyes, though he visibly wasn’t trying to be harmful, simply frustrated.

“Do you know that the King’s men were everywhere? One wrong word and you’re executed. I was just hoping you wouldn’t get yourself killed,” Burr retorted. “And then you went shouting into the streets that you wanted a war.”

He bit his lip. This was not the place and time to argue.

< “Burr, check what we got!” >

“And we won! We won our freedom!” Alexander shouted, excited by all the sudden attention. “A bunch of revo... man, I wish I could talk that fast.”

“God help us if you did,” Jefferson added, nearly everyone else giving sounds and gestures of agreement.

“Really? I can’t believe you all.” Alexander grunted.

< “Oh, am I talking too loud?” >

Lafayette, Laurens, and Hercules nodded to one another, which caused the rest of the group to break down in suppressed giggling.

“What’s so funny?” Alex asked, but he got no answer.

He sighed. If this was just going to be his friends laughing at him behind his back, he didn’t know if he liked it too much. On the other side, it made Jefferson mad that he was the hero of this, and that was enough to assure his enjoyment.

Lin’s words quickly dissolved into a fast and passionate rap, leaving the group to stay quiet with their eyes subconsciously widened.

“Wow, you’re really not throwing away your shot, huh?” John deadpanned with the others chuckling right on que.

“Depends on what you mean by that,” Jefferson said sarcastically, earning an elbow in his shoulder from Madison.

“That guy has talent. Makes me want to try it out,” Alexander said, ignoring Jefferson. “I didn’t know you could capture thoughts and emotion by music like that. What’s that style called, anyway?”

“Oh! I’ll find that,” Philip piped in, immediately burying his head in the all-knowing guidebook. Laurens leaned over his side to see, the teen’s willingness catching his interest.

Meanwhile, the whole ensemble sang, the speakers located in different parts of the room amplifying it and making them feel as if they were in the middle of the stage until everything came to a sudden stop

< “I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory…” >

“Alex, are you alright?” Eliza asked, frowning. “You never told me that.”

“Death’s been following me throughout my entire life. How can I not think about it?” he questioned in reply. 

“You run!” Lafayette shouted as Lin continued the monologue. “It’s death! Of course, you’re gonna run if it’s chasing after you!”

“You can’t outrun it though, can you? What’s the point of struggling?” Alexander mused.

“You’re all depressing, focus on the play!” Philip shouted, finally lifting his eyes off of the notebook.

< “I never thought I’d live past twenty…” >

“Didn’t you say you were nineteen earlier?” Hercules asked.

“Uhh… did I?” Alexander replied, a nervous smile on his face. “They must’ve made a mistake.”

“Ah! Here it is,” Philip cut them off, to Alex’s relief. “It’s called hip-hop, it only surfaced a few decades ago. Though it’s mixed with some other mainstream styles of the 21st century. Well, make sense. I doubt people in this era would like our music. In comparison to this, it seems slow and boring.”

“Philip!” Eliza intervened, “don’t say that. You used to like the sonnets.”

“Yeah, but I like these songs more,” Philip argued.

< “I know the action in the streets is excitin’-” >

“And here he goes with the fast singing again!” the teen cheered.

“Why were you always so hung up on money?” Jefferson uttered.

“I saw what it was like growing up in a country with no financial stability. If we didn’t get our finances organized, everyone would live in poverty. Well, maybe except for priggish aristocrats who live from the unpaid labor of others,” Hamilton was quick to reply.

“How  _ dare _ you-”

“Thomas, please,” James interrupted. “I must agree with Alex on this one, our debts were a mess back then.”

Jefferson stayed quiet, they could barely hear each other anyway as the finale of the song approached. 

< “Not throwin’ away my shot!” >

The room resounded in loud clapping, mirroring the sounds in the recording.

The Story of Tonight started playing, and as the drunk revolutionaries stumbled through the stage, Angelica shook her head in disapproval. “How many times did the four of you get drunk like that?”

“Revolution is messy, madame,” Lafayette replied, “we didn’t know if we were to live another day. Our comradeship was all we got to hang onto.”

“Rough days,” Alex added. 

All went quiet at the strong sound of Laurens’ actor’s solo. 

The three other revolutionaries seemed the most touched, as they’ve had to live for so long without their treasured friend. Laurens being the one to sing that part, it really cut deep.

The screen stopped for the second time that day.

Everyone turned to see Peggy holding the remote control. “Alex is crying,” she stated.

He was stuck to his seat, once again stricken with grief. His hands were trembling, eyes glazed over as he tried desperately not to make a sound. Choppy breaths could be heard, chest moving up and down unevenly as the first drop of fresh tears landed on his arm.

Most of the group didn’t know what to say or do, and so they were quiet, an awkward silence arising in the room. Some wanted to comfort him, but not knowing what he needed, they stayed put.

Laurens whispered something to Burr, whose eyes widened and he went slightly red in the face. However, he nodded, and stood up for John to pass him and Philip and walk over to the front seat.

He leaned over Alexander, who seemed nearly paralyzed, arms crossed on his chest and eyes shut tight while trying to keep the tears from flowing. John gently swept the other’s hair out of his face and gave him a soft smile. 

“Alex? I’m right here. I’m with you. See? There’s nothing to worry about. Our story is being told, is that not what we wanted?” he said, Hamilton’s breathing progressively normalizing as he spoke.

Aaron came up to them with a bunch of paper towels, on Laurens’ request. John took them from his hands and mouthed a ‘thanks’ before he returned to comforting his friend. Having completed his task, Burr nodded and went to sit back down, not too sure about what was happening himself, or how he got himself into such a situation.

“Here. Better now?” John asked, wiping away the last traces of tears on Alexander’s face. The other nodded, without the mental energy to speak yet. That didn’t happen a lot, and the more scary it was.

John turned to look at Jefferson and Madison. “Do you guys mind if we switch places?”

“Well, actually…” Jefferson visibly paled as he saw something that could be considered a death threat in Laurens’ eyes.

“You can sit in the front chair?” Laurens added, unamused.

Madison nodded even for the other, clutching his shoulder to forcibly stand him up.

“Uh… yeah, sure. Sounds good to me,” Jefferson agreed.

And so for the time being, Laurens took Alex by the arm and guided him to the couch behind the one in the front. He stopped for a moment to see if Tomas Stehlik would have anything to say about it, but the room remained in silence. And so they sat together in the seat, Alex buried under a bunch of paper towels and John patiently waiting for someone to start the play.

Madison walked into the very back and sat down besides Philip. He shot Burr a sharp glance but felt like leaving him alone for now. Jefferson proudly sat down in the front seat, fluffed his hair, and let the musical play.

< “There's nothing rich folks love more, than going downtown and slummin’ it with the poor.” >

“True.” Hercules smirked.

< “Take Philip Schuyler…” >

“Is this about us?” Peggy asked, though her question would soon be answered as three actresses walked onto the stage and started singing.

“Those were exciting times, back then. Everyone was so… idealistic,” Angelica noted as the song continued.

“I wish I could sing like that,” Peggy sighed.

“Well, I bet we’ll have time for it now. Maybe we can learn the lyrics and sing along to this?” Eliza suggested.

Burr’s actor came trotting towards the Sisters, the real life Burr feeling his face flush red. Everyone watched as Angelica leaned back when he spoke to her, and he continued his weak attempt at flirting.

< “I’m a trust fund, baby, you can trust me!” >

The room bursted out in unrestrained laughter. Oddly enough, this felt better to Burr than when they all looked at him with such hatred. He gave a deep exhale as Philip shot him an empathetic smile, as if he’s gone through something similar.

Even Alexander was laughing through the tears, his chest bouncing up and down and bangs flailing around his face. The entire room felt suddenly a lot more lighthearted and relaxed.

“Burr, what in the living hell?” Lafayette spat out once he finally caught his breath. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard someone say in a century.”

“I can confirm, this is the level at which Burr flirted with women. I will never understand how he got a wife,” Angelica added, though her words missed the usual thorn she had while talking to Burr.

Aaron just shrugged, a small smile playing on his face. Sometimes two pieces of a puzzle fit together perfectly, even if they don’t seem to fit anywhere else.

< “I'm 'a compel him to include women in the sequel!” >

“Good luck with that,” Alex grinned, back to his usual fierce mood.

“Hmm. He keeps putting it off,” Angelica sighed. “I bet my death was quite a relief.”

Jefferson went red in the face. “That’s not true!”

“What?” Eliza glanced from one to the other. “Did you actually ask him that?”

Jefferson seemed genuinely embarrassed for the first time in his life, Angelica only giving a quiet smirk. 

“Not exactly, but close. I asked him many times to help me endorse women’s rights, and he-”

“No! Let’s continue watching, I mean,” Jefferson spat, trying his best to stop her from continuing.

Peggy and Eliza shot each other a glance, John looking at Hamilton with a question in his eyes. Alexander shrugged, similarly clueless.

The group number was already too loud for them to speak, voices mixed into a singular symphony with actors circling around the stage.

Alexander sighed in nostalgia. “The greatest city in the world.”

Jefferson watched as the actresses bowed and walked off the main stage.

“I like Paris more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More awkward Aaron, as promised! Man, this guy needs some help.
> 
> Now, if you don’t know about the Jefferson-Angelica thing, they kind of know each other? It got cut from the musical, because it’s a lot of different relationships to take in already. But yes, the two are... acquaintances? Friends. They’re friends. It will be explained later in the fanfic.
> 
> The thing with Philip empathizing with Aaron in the flirting thing also will be explained. I know there are a lot of loose ends at the moment, but this is the third chapter, so we have time to flesh everything out. And, well, how do I keep you guys reading if there isn’t unresolved questions which you’ll only solve by reading further?
> 
> I know it’s kinda weird with Jefferson being weirded out by how Burr’s actor looks, but the musical has the very same plothole. Well, not really, I’m pretty sure it’s meant to be ironic. Either way, let’s just say to themselves they look white, to everyone else they don’t. If that makes sense to y’all, because that’s kinda what it’s like in the musical.
> 
> Also, just fyi. Alexander is not at all in denial. And he is absolutely fine. He doesn’t feel hurt at all that Burr shot him. Nope. No unresolved feelings. He isn’t at all bottling up the pain. *Cough* he’ll be alright!
> 
> Anyways. See you all in the next chapter! Gbye <3
> 
> (Also thanks so much for the nice comments! It makes my day ✨)


	4. or the only nice chapter in this book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the characters have fun, for once. Don’t expect much of that in the future.

A new song started; almost royal-like-sounding, strings and flute prominent. A man stood on a pedestal, holding a stroll and drawing the crowd’s attention.

< “Hear ye! Hear ye! My name is Samuel Seabury!” >

“Who the hell is that guy?” Jefferson asked, resting his face on his hand as he supported it against the chair’s arm.

Hamilton scoffed, eyes flaring a sudden need to express his opinion. “The single most annoying person who’s ever taken a step in America. Or, well, the ‘Farmer’. I have never seen someone write under such a ridiculous pseudonym,” Alexander rolled his eyes. “He even tops you.”

Jefferson decided to take that as a compliment.

The other had more words dancing on his tongue, but he let go of it, and watched with interest as Seabury introduced his document. Something so bland and nonsensical, he was falling asleep thinking about it.

The actor started going off about how revolution was uncivilized and foolish, causing Hercules to cross his arms in a gesture of disagreement. 

< “Let him be.” >

“Of course you would,” Lafayette shot a look in Burr’s way. 

He only shrugged in response, not willing to entertain them with a defense of his actions.

Lin joined in the speech, which quickly turned into a duet. The words fit perfectly together, forming a strangely enjoyable argument.

The Alex in the play began hurling insults at Seabury when he noticed the other would not respond, causing a wave of suppressed laughter in the audience, both in and out of the recording. The amusement amplified when the two started trying to push each other off of the small podium, and Hamilton was trying to take away Seabury’s scroll.

Alex was about to add something to his actor’s disapproval of Burr’s indecision, when suddenly redcoats walked to the front of the stage and started singing frighteningly loud. The actors scurried off of the stage and everything darkened, until a man in ridiculously fancy clothing walked in, a giant crown sitting on his head.

“Is… is that supposed to be King George the third?” Peggy whispered to Angelica.

< “In your tea which you hurl in the sea when you see me go by…” >

“Oh, right. The tea.” Alexander rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m pretty sure I know who this guy is.”

< “Remember, we made an arrangement-” >

“What arrangement? I don’t remember signing one,” Hercules cut him off and grinned, the other revolutionaries nodding in agreement.

“He’s… scary. In this crazy way. I can’t describe it,” John said. “He gives me the creeps. Now I’m happy  _ he _ didn’t come on the battlefield.”

“I would’ve shot him in that big head of his,” Hercules uttered, receiving a high-pitched chuckle from Lafayette.

< “I will send a fully armed battalion… to remind you of my love!” >

“What in the living hell is that guy’s problem?” Alexander exclaimed. “He’s talking as if America was his wife! And why is he just… singing random- Jefferson, are you humming along?” He turned to John upon hearing the same melody from the other side, staring at him with disbelief as the other smirked.

“It’s really catchy.” 

Alexander rolled his eyes as Angelica gave a chuckle, and soon everyone else was humming along, probably just because it was funny seeing Alex frustrated over such a small thing. The song moved on, with the King hitting an extremely high note. At this point, everyone was either humming along, tapping their fingers or giggling.

< “For ever…” >

“This is ridiculous,” Hamilton muttered grumpily. 

Meanwhile Laurens next to him was genuinely enjoying the song. “You can’t hate someone who sings so well,” John said, though he most definitely did still hate him, even if this caricature brought a smile to his face.

“What ‘thing we had’? This is stupid. Does he mean us getting extorted and not even having enough money to pay for tea?”

Alex got immediately shushed by the people behind him, as at this point, everyone was vocalizing along to the song.

Except for the people who never had fun and didn’t want to. This included people like Burr, Madison and Alexander, who was simply too stubborn to let go of his ‘ideals’, even though it was only a song.

After the song ended, an actor playing a spy got offed by a redcoat coming from behind as the King aimed his cane and stepped away.

Right Hand Man began playing, the music a lot more solemn, contrasting the nearly delusional feeling of the previous song. The ensemble sang about the beginning of the war, causing the war veterans to tense.

The lights landed on Alexander in the middle of the stage as he began reciting.

“I’m sure there are other ways you can rise up than... war,” Peggy remarked.

Alex chuckled bitterly. “Not in a way that would let me create something that would outlive me. If we didn’t become a country, I would just be a kid in the colonies that writes a lot. If we didn’t need our own systems, there would be no room for me to try and create any.”

“I could live with that.” Jefferson could feel the glares from behind him, and quickly decided to  _ not _ antagonize everyone in the room. “Of course, the war was needed. The British couldn’t continue robbing us like this.”

“Oh, look! Something that we agree upon,” Alexander uttered in response.

“I wish I was there,” Philip whispered, looking up at Burr with the fantasies sparked by stories of legendary fighters sparkling in his eyes.

The other smiled sadly; war was a lot less gleam and a lot more blood. The word itself doesn’t raise that much emotion, but seeing hundreds of corpses scattered over the battlefield, feeling smoke in your lungs as your eyes water uncontrollably, and knowing that you are responsible for those people never returning to their families, it feels like steel in your stomach. 

Burr was known on the battlefield to be resilient and cold-blooded, killing maybe hundreds of redcoats while Hamilton was sitting behind a desk with a pen and a quill. His local soldiers looked up to him, but with the guilt weighing heavy on his chest, he couldn’t be less proud sometimes. Those nights he would cry in his tent, pray to god that he might be forgiven. And the next day, he would go out to do the same thing again, not showing an inch of emotion as he fired bullets into one after another.

Aaron reached out and ruffled Philip’s hair, hoping the grief wasn’t visible on his face as the curly strands bounced up and down under his fingers. He really reminded him of his little Theodosia. What all he’d give to see her again.

< “Here comes the general!” >

“Burr looks excited! Well, that’s new,” Alexander commented, momentarily tearing Aaron out of his thoughts. 

“If Washington could make a speech like this, our men would have been a lot more willing to fight,” Laurens noted, causing the revolutionaries to laugh.

They listened without a word as George Washington went on with his personal speech. War was frantic. There was no time for letting your feelings get in the way. It was good to have close friends in a time like this, or, well, a right hand man.

< “When ya hear the British cannons go “Boom!”” >

Alexander jumped out of his seat and clutched the control in his hand, nearly letting it slip out of his hands. 

“That- that sounded like a real cannon!” He exclaimed, staring at the frozen screen in search of smoke and blood. “Do they have cannons backstage?”

“I’m sure they don’t, Alex,” John replied, grabbing his shoulder and trying to gently pull him down.

“I’ll try to find something about it in the notebook!” Philip offered, watching Burr firmly grasp the edge of his seat. “Just… sit down, pops, it’ll be okay. There are no cannons  _ here _ .”

Alexander reluctantly nodded, and Jefferson scoffed in the front seat as he let the musical play.

Washington continued describing the war, before Hamilton entered onto the stage with Mulligan.

< “Yo, let’s steal their cannons!” >

“You really wanted to get yourself killed back then, didn’t you?” Jefferson grinned.

“I have a thing for evading-” Alex was cut off by another loud sound coming from the speakers. “...death.”

The song continued with more cannon shots, fitting perfectly into the beat. The war veterans didn’t seem to favor it too much, however they became resilient throughout the years.

“Ah! Here it is!” Philip exclaimed. “Sound effects- some sounds, such as reversed singing, cannon shots and gunshots are hard to replicate in real time. Sometimes the musicians simply use drums or some other methods, otherwise they just play an edited recording. There are no real weapons in the theatre.”

“Good to know, thanks, Philip,” Hamilton replied, and decided he’d rather not ponder anymore.

< “I'm in dire need of assistance!” >

Burr ‘entered’ Washington’s office, stating his case. Aaron felt a tinge of annoyance as memories resurfaced in his mind.

< “Hamilton, come in, have you met Burr?” “Yes, sir, we keep meeting.” >

“We very much did,” Alexander confirmed. 

His voice was trying to be relaxed and casual, but there was a sharp pain in his chest as he spoke.

Burr got straight-up denied by Washington, as it goes. Most other people only frowned, however Jefferson couldn’t help but give a cruel chuckle.

< “Dying is easy, young man, living is harder.” >

“For most people,” Alexander uttered.

“What was that?” Eliza piped in from behind.

“Nothing.”

The ensemble seemingly began pushing Alexander to a decision, until he grabbed the quill from Washington’s hands.

“Who in their right mind would say no to that?” John smirked. “It seems like you hesitated. You’re weird, Alexander.”

Hamilton shrugged. “I admit it.”

< “I have some friends!” >

“Oh, wow! Look who has a total of three friends,” Jefferson mocked. “I bet they were quite a help to the army.”

“Jefferson, what do you mean by that?” Lafayette asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course we were. John made his own battalion, Hercules was a spy, and I became a general.”

“Yeah, of course.” Jefferson waved his hand dismissively.

“Only three,” Burr noted, sarcasm glinting in his eyes. “That is unless he forgot about someone, but that couldn’t be.”

Alexander turned around in his seat to stare back at him with confusion. “What? What do you mean by that? I-”

John put his hand onto his shoulder and shushed him in an attempt to turn his attention back to the play. Burr looked a little resentful, but kept his mouth shut. Hamilton gave him a glare, though he decided to let it be for the moment, and turned back to watch the musical.

“Washington’s right hand man,” John spoke as the song ended, with a smirk across his face. “And adoptive son.”

“Laurens, we’ve talked about this.”

< “How does a bastard, orphan…” >

“Are they going to repeat this every scene?” Alexander questioned, slightly irritated. 

“Well, it’s a good question. How does he?” Lafayette asked in reply. 

Burr’s actor continued stating his opinion on Hamilton, oblivious of his special audience. 

< “Now Hamilton’s skill with the quill is undeniable, but what do we have in common?” >

“Literally nothing?” Alexander tried. 

< “We’re reliable with the  _ LADIES! _ ” >

The ladies bursted out in loud laughter, Eliza especially. The guys looked between Burr and Hamilton with amused expressions, seeing how they both went red.

The line about the tomcat was spoken and Hamilton frowned. “I- that’s- if that was meant to hint at something about my character, it was utterly wrong.”

“Absolutely,” Angelica said with a grin.

< “Is it a question of if, Burr, or which one?” >

“I never said that!” Alexander exclaimed, face flushing a bright pink. “Right, Burr?”

“To tell the truth, as much as I remember-”

The rest of the group bursted out laughing. Alexander groaned in irritation as he turned back to the play. 

“Could you not throw me under the carriage for once?” He felt a bit bad while saying that. He felt sick. 

His attention was quickly drawn by a girl spinning around the stage. His face softened and he looked behind him to see Eliza looking back at him with her eyes sparkling. 

He felt like a monster. After everything he’s done, after all the ways he’s hurt her, he was meant to be there for her and protect her. And he just… left her.

He was ripped out of his thoughts as he felt a kiss on his cheek. Eliza was leaning over the back of his chair and embracing him from the back, her hair flowing down and brushing past his shoulders.

Helpless continued playing, Philip slightly weirded out as he watched the actress dance. 

Burr next to him gave a sad smile. Looking back at it, of course he was happy he didn't get to ‘marry a Sister’. It was just, he missed his Theodosia.

“Look into your eyes and the sky’s the limit…” Eliza hummed along. 

“Hmm. When we figure this all out, we can dance along to some of the songs. I haven't been on the dance floor for years,” Alexander chuckled. 

< “If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it. >

“Oh, wow,” John chuckled. “That’s surprisingly smooth.”

“Hey! What do you mean by that?”

“That you’re a tomcat,” Angelica responded.

John turned around in his seat and saluted the woman awhile Alexander only scoffed in irritation.

“Why am I friends with people like these,” Alexander grunted, but couldn’t be less serious.

Chords of a wedding march began playing, and Alex gave a soft chuckle when Hercules went to throw the flowers into the air.

No one felt like it was needed for them to say anything. For once, a pleasant memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry if this chapter is not very good, I was on a deadline, school just started, and I caught a fever. It might be a bit rushed, but I promise the next chapters are going to be much better. I made an outline, and I am completely sure where I am going with this. I’ll make an effort to write more after I manage to get myself into a solid workflow! For now, I hope you enjoy. This one’s a bit more fluffy, because the songs are simply non-controversial in general. However I have reactions planned out for every song from the next chapter onwards, and they should be constantly improving! Thank you so much for all your support. Means a lot to me <3


	5. or revealed secrets and repressed memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Philip mistakes Burr for a replacement father figure.

A very much drunk Laurens stumbled onto the stage. The real John gave a small chuckle, reminiscing about the actual wedding. Contrary to popular belief, it was quite surprising for him to see his friend marry a woman he had met three weeks ago. He thought his friend had made the right choice either way, no matter how out of his mind he had been when he’d made it.

< “Everyone give it up for the maid of honor, Angelica Schuyler!” >

Eliza grabbed her sister’s hand. Angelica smiled back at her, with a hint of sadness, but feeling still relieved that her sister considered her presence helpful.

Angelica’s actress raised the glass to the different occasions that seemed to be happening all at once. Her voice was strong and pure, carrying through the room as it hit high note after high note, with unexpected emotion.

And then something happened. 

The actors froze, and the stage started reassembling to the way it had been the previous song, as did the actors. The turntable in the middle of the stage was going clockwise, with the actress standing firmly in the middle. 

“Are we… are we going back in time?” Philip asked, spellbound by the new concept. It seemed to be the most plausible answer though, as the subtitles were saying ‘rewind’ and something along the lines of reminiscing. 

The actress finally started singing actual lyrics again, with the stage reversed to the state it was in at the beginning of the last song. Angelica didn't know what was going on, and kept her calm. That was, until a specific line was spoken that almost startled her back to reality out of the firm grasp of the musical. 

She could feel the group’s eyes land on her, and though she fought hard to keep her posture collected, she sunk deeper into her seat.

< “Intelligent eyes, and a hunger-pang frame!” >

“Wait, what’s going on here?” Jefferson asked with a sly smile, tone resembling that of a person excited to hear about a disastrous rumor. 

It soon became rather clear what was in fact going on as the actress started flirting with Alexander. The man in question straightened up in his seat and stiffened, running a hand through his hair in a nervous manner and coughing, which was an instinct he subconsciously gained from Madison.

People were shooting questioning glances towards Angelica. She did her best to keep her eyes on the screen, but was fully aware her silence was making the situation even more awkward.

Peggy leaned forwards, breaking the quiet as would be expected of her. 

“Do you have anything to say about this?”

She wasn’t an insensitive person per se, but she’d rather get straight to the point and save her sister the suffering. More of actually helping the person rather than trying to not hurt their feelings. That was her attitude, and made her a good though unusual companion to say the least.

Angelica tried to straighten up in her seat but she only felt more stiff. “I… umm…”

The rap number started, temporarily drawing the attention of some of the crowd as they tried to keep up with it by reading the subtitles.

“I… it… uhh…” Her heart was in her throat. She was getting uncharacteristically restless. “I liked him first but decided he was better for Eliza.”

“Hm. And did it go away after that?” Peggy inquired, and god damn her unique abilities to get to the core of the problem.

Angelica considered for a moment all the ways in which she could lie. All of the different answers she could give that would not be the truth. It came down to the fact that she was an awfully honest person and at that moment, it didn’t help a single bit.

“...no.”

She stared down at her hands for a moment, noticing the ring and feeling a bitterness rise on her tongue. She carefully shifted her eyes towards Eliza, expecting hurt, feelings of betrayal, and righteous anger, but instead found her sister’s face softened with pity.

“You’re not angry?” she asked, strangely quiet.

“Of course not.” Eliza shook her head, a small smile sneaking onto her face. “God knows every girl who sees Alexander falls in love with him. Especially his eyes. You can’t help it. And, I mean, you’re still my sister. You’ve done so much for me.”

Red crept onto Angelica’s face, embarrassment and relief at the same time.

The rest of the group only shifted their attention away from the sisters, seeing as a potential disaster was just prevented. Granted, Jefferson looked a bit disappointed.

Eliza took Angelica’s hand and then went on to hug her. “My favorite older sister,” she uttered, as Peggy only watched from the edge of the seat with content.

As they were about to let go, Eliza leaned towards Angelica’s ear and whispered: “thank you.”

Alexander lifted his eyes from the screen and turned around to look back at them. “Hey, you’re my favorite older sister too. Right, Angie?” He spoke, trying to blow away the awkwardness that was suddenly between them.

“Of course,” Angelica replied, a smile in her eyes.

Angelica’s actress began repeating the lines from the beginning of the song, but this time with four times the emotion. Her singing capacities were beyond their collective comprehension.

The wedding scene wasn’t over yet, though. The reprise of The Story Of Tonight began playing, with the four revolutionaries barely standing on their feet, Hamilton looking like he‘d had far too many. 

< “If Alexander can get married~” >

“What?” Alexander snorted. “Am I supposed to take that personally?”

“Non, of course not, friend. From what I remember, we didn’t even say anything like that,” Lafayette replied, though there was a wide smile on his face indicating he at least thought it.

“I’d be surprised if any of us remembered anything from that night,” John said with a smirk, receiving the much needed laughter after the disaster that was the last song.

< “Well, if it isn’t Aaron Burr!” “Sir!” >

“Oh, god,” Burr couldn’t help but utter. He, for once, remembered more than he needed.

His encounter with the drunk bunch went as well as would be expected, until they finally left him and Hamilton to talk in private.

< “I’m afraid it’s unlawful sir.” >

“Whaat?” Jefferson chuckled. “Who would’ve thought?” 

< “She’s married to a British officer.” >

“Wait, what?! Burr, since when do you have guts?” Laurens asked, rather bewildered. 

Burr went red in the face. Of course. He didn’t know. It didn’t become known until after the war that he had been courting Theodosia.

Jefferson was similarly surprised. “Burr, what the hell? Since when are you not a bland unremarkable non-person?”

Jefferson didn’t know either. Of course, why would he tell him? Who would ever be so stupid as to tell Jefferson something even remotely personal? Especially when he could use it against you at any time, the snake. He definitely didn’t need to know Burr was courting a married woman once.

< “I’ll see you on the other side of the war…” >

[ A/N I highly recommend playing Wait For It (or the Instrumental, even better) on low volume on loop during the next section, for maximal emotion. I tested it and it really helps!]

The song had finally ended, but it didn’t seem at all to be the end of his suffering, as his actor stayed on stage and received the limelight. A few moments after, for the first time in the musical, he actually started singing.

Aaron remained quiet, watching the actor’s movements as the ensemble seemed to join him. The rest of the people gathered in the room began to feel more uncomfortable as the song progressed.

< “ _Then I’m willing to wait for it… I’m willing to wait for it._ ” >

Burr found himself agreeing with the song and what it was trying to describe. It was scarily accurate. 

The next verse was about his family specifically, and he felt like he was getting chills from the song’s melody. Having both of your parents die when you are two and having no solid upbringing is rough, especially when you’re trying so hard to not disappoint someone you don’t even remember. Burr felt a strange tightness in his chest.

Death was a thing that Burr's spent a lot of time pondering on. Having the most important people in your life taken from you so early leaves its mark. It makes you think about how… death doesn’t discriminate. How it can come at you at any time, and you just can’t outrun it.

Alexander’s eyes were glazed over, as memories from his own childhood were moved to the forefront of his mind. He glanced behind him to try and make eye contact with Burr.

It was as if he’d felt a sudden connection, a topic which was their driving force in life, and which not many people understood. Especially considering that what they both went through was a thing that other people could barely relate to. That is, having to grow up so fast.

He wanted to say something, anything to his past friend. His words got stuck in his throat.

< “And if there’s a reason I’m still alive, when everyone who loves me has died, I’m willing to wait for it!” >

“Oh, wow, that’s… deep,” Jefferson noted, though he was quickly cut off by a wave of nearly startling sound. 

Philip placed his hand onto Burr’s arm and turned to him to search his face for emotion. It was the one thing Burr was undisputedly good at, concealing emotions.

“Are you alright, Mr. Burr?” Philip asked with genuine concern.

Burr was brought to reality by the teen’s words and he looked down at him with a sigh. Philip looked so much like Alexander. It reminded Burr just how much he’d messed up, breaking every principle he’d ever set for himself.

“I…” he looked almost apologetic, searching for words. “Yeah. That’s just how it goes sometimes.”

 _That’s just how it goes sometimes._ Burr wasn’t sure what exactly he meant by that.

Everyone who loves you gets taken from you. That’s just how it goes sometimes.

You make a mistake and shoot your oldest friend. That’s just how it goes sometimes.

That sentence would haunt him by how true and awful it was. Despite everything, despite all his efforts, something unexpected and terrible happens, and that’s just how it goes sometimes. Life doesn’t discriminate. It was so overwhelming, Aaron Burr felt the sudden urge to cry. He gripped the armrests tight. 

The focus of the song shifted towards Hamilton. It truly felt like Alexander was doing all the wrong things and it got him to all the right places. Back then, it had really made Aaron Burr question, what was _he_ doing wrong? 

< “And if there’s a reason that he seems to strive, when so few survive, then _goddamit_ I’m willing to wait for it!” >

Ha. The most ridiculous thing was that he still didn't know. Alexander probably didn't know either. Did it even matter?

The rest of the people in the room could sense the air getting heavy. The two enemies wanted to talk, but it felt like they were chained to their seats.

Lafayette shuffled nervously as the last verse began. 

It felt strange, knowing about Burr. No one ever knew much about Burr. It made it easy to hate him.

And really, this new information was like putting glasses on a nearly-blind man. It made everything more complicated, and it wasn’t so simple anymore to just hate him. It was unsettling. It made them question their own beliefs. They didn’t appreciate that, however there was a bit of sweet to the bitter.

And Burr was there in the room with them. And he was currently a few units of stress from getting a stroke again. 

< “And if there’s a reason I’m still alive, when so many have died, then I’m willing to…” >

_Wait for it._

_Wait for it._

Maybe if Burr just waited for this to end, everything would be alright. Maybe if he waited out the musical, he’d find a solution to this predicament. Maybe there would be a path lit in front of him if he just waited long enough.

Maybe he just needed to be patient. 

The stage darkened. A few last notes played, and then there was silence, before a new song began. No one paused. No one said anything. There were only thoughts, intrusive, and sweet, and chewing away at the people in the room, that would linger for longer than they’d want.

Stay Alive however could at least distract them for a moment. The note progression seemed almost frantic, with a cannon going off at the very beginning. A redcoat fired a bullet which an actress caught, and carried it an inch over Lin’s head as he sat in his chair and wrote.

“So this is about the war, I assume,” Alexander broke the silence and added a sigh. 

The in-play Alex confirmed as he began complaining about just how awful everything was going. Honestly, it was looking terrible for the Union. Looking back at it, none of the war veterans even wanted to think about it. And still they found themselves having flashbacks, with images they wished they could erase from their subconscious but they proved to be there, at the back of their minds, as vivid as ever. 

< “I shoot back, we have resorted to eating our horses!” >

“Oh goodness no,” Laurens groaned. “Don't make me think about that. Those who didn't get to see it were lucky, but the camp at Valley Forge was full of bloody horse meat for ages.”

Alexander gasped, never having witnessed this, similarly to the rest of the war vets. They’ve only heard stories and reports, which by themselves made them want to vomit. 

“Did you eat it?” Hamilton inquired. 

“Hell no,” Laurens chuckled, “I’d rather starve.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes, though no one saw it. He could barely relate to such feelings. The concept of war and revolution was greatly polished in his mind, contrasting reality. The actual battles seemed a bit boring when he thought about it, except for whatever brave acts were made that were to be engraved into history. Such mediocre things like actual horrors of war seemed bland in his eyes. 

On stage, Washington continued explaining their strategy. It was pretty much a last resort for the skittish colonies. One strategic mistake, with such an army, and they lose thousands of soldiers.

A strategic mistake, such as putting Lee in command. 

“My god, that man was insufferable,” Hamilton uttered. Laurens next to him flinched, but he didn't notice it. 

What Hamilton held towards Lee was not even annoyance or jealousy, it was anger. Thousands of soldiers dying. The entire war almost being lost. It was more than enough for Hamilton to hate him. Though such feelings fade over time, and it’s been many years since he’s heard that name, and so it’s watered down into frustration. 

“Hey, Laffy saves the day!” Hercules laughed and gave Lafayette a strong pat on the back. 

The Frenchman awkwardly smiled in response, color flooding his face.

< “He started saying this to anybody who would listen-” >

“Oh wow.” Jefferson chuckled. “Gossip? Really? Is that how he retaliates?”

“Sounds funny coming from you,” Hamilton was quick to jump in. 

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, nothing,” Alexander replied in an overly sweet tone of voice, though in reality he only wanted to stop the bickering and let everyone else enjoy the show. 

Jefferson scoffed, leaning onto the backrest and getting his hair out of his face while he repositioned himself. 

< “Then I’ll do it.” >

Realization hit Hamilton at that moment. He froze, then a wave of mixed emotions washed over him. 

“Oh… oh Lord.”

The first tones of the next song started playing, and his entire body tensed. This was the last thing anyone in the room wanted to think about at that moment. 

The ten duel commandments. 

The word itself made Philip pale. He seemed to slightly dissociate from the time and place he was currently at, with visible fear painted into his expression as he bit his bottom lip.

He glanced around himself, seeing Mr. Madison on one side and Mr. Burr on the other. He’s only met James a few times when he went to have a meeting with his father. And even then, it was only after their friendship fell apart. Burr on the other side, before the whole Senate fiasco, was often invited for tea. Sure, it was only so that Alexander could argue with him, but they still were friends. One time he even remembered Burr bringing home a barely-awake Alexander after he’d fallen asleep at work.

Philip definitely trusted Burr more when it came to that, and at that moment, he didn’t have many options. He needed human interaction to remind him he was not in fact across the river in Jersey, but in a place with people he trusted that would protect him. He slowly put his shaky hand onto Burr’s wrist and then held it tight. 

Burr could feel his heartbeat quicken. He glanced over to see Philip with his face white as the wall, moments from a panic attack.

The teen looking for him as a source of comfort glanced up at him with fear in his eyes. 

Burr could only fathom how he managed to get himself into such a situation. He gave Philip an encouraging nod, though everything inside him was shouting that this felt wrong. When all was said and done, he was the same as the person who got him into such a state in the first place. Burr hated that.

He could feel Madison glaring at him from across the seat, most likely thinking the very same thoughts that he was. That Burr should be the last person comforting Philip about duels. And yet there he was.

None of Philip’s parents noticed. No one thought to look behind them at that moment. The air was so dense one could cut it with a knife. Alexander’s eyes were stuck to the back of Jefferson’s seat, just so that he didn’t have to look, however he didn’t have to look to understand what was happening. The song was descriptive enough. 

A strange thought formed inside his mind. Seconds were meant to be a substitute to the actual duelists in case they couldn’t be there. If Laurens and Lee both got some kind of sickness, would he and Burr…?

No, Burr wouldn’t have allowed it back then. He didn’t want it. He didn’t like duels. He only wanted to be a mediator and prevent unnecessary bloodshed. 

< “Can we agree that duels are dumb and immature?” “Sure.” >

Jefferson snorted, a grin stretching across his face. “Right.”

He was probably one of the three people undisturbed by the song. Neither Peggy nor Laurens lived so long as to know about either of the duels. The sudden tension was strange to them, and though Laurens tried to search his friend’s face for answers, he remained quiet.

< “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9-” “-number 10-” “-paces-” “-fire!” >

The gunshot made multiple people in the room twitch. It was worse than the cannons in a sense. Much worse. 

Burr ran his hand through his face, hoping to release some pressure. He felt the grip on his wrist loosen. Philip glanced at the screen, seeing the scene has moved, and confirmed it was hopefully over. He then looked back at Burr and gave him a small smile of gratitude. Aaron nodded back to the teen, feeling guilt in his stomach like a rock.

< “Son-” “Don’t call me son.” >

Alexander scoffed, relaxing a little. 

“With all due respect to our president, he seemed dense when it came to this. I’ve told him too many times to even count.” It seemed he was trying to shift everyone’s focus and disperse the intrusive thoughts the last song left in him.

The emotions were real however, and his frustration ramped up when the General refused to give him command again, and then reasoned by the fact that they needed him alive.

“I’d rather die than be known as the General’s secretary for the rest of my life,” Alex noted bitterly. 

< “Son I need you alive-” “ _Call me son one more time_ -” >

The actor’s breathing hitched, as if he was trying to draw back in the words but couldn’t. Alexander, now filled with anger, snatched the remote and almost broke it when he pressed the pause button.

“No, actually, let’s talk about this,” he began, turning around to look at the rest of the group as he spoke. “Everyone always kept insisting that I was something like Washington’s adoptive son, even when I asked them not to. Especially in front of other people.” He glanced around to shoot glances to the other revolutionaries. “You thought there was no problem, that I was getting worked up about nothing. You know what? I think it’s time I explain to you that there is in fact a problem.”

Eliza sighed. “Alexander-”

“I was an orphan, with no one but myself to build me up. I didn’t need to credit my skills and successes to anyone but myself. _I_ was the one who was writing like hell to get somewhere, and _I_ made it into Washington’s office. I worked there as best as I could so that he would give me a command, because I was hoping this was a stepping stone to something greater. However, because Washington had no children of his own, everyone started assuming the only reason I’d made it this far was because he had an emotional connection to me. Which is not true in any way! I didn’t once take advantage of Washington’s presumed father instincts. It was only my own work which got me this far. And people,” Hamilton chuckled bitterly and gestured in Jefferson’s direction, “have the audacity to say I wouldn’t get anywhere if it wasn’t for Washington adopting me. Which he didn’t! I was a grown man by then, I didn’t need parents. I haven’t had them since I was twelve, I was more than enough used to taking care of myself.”

“Alex, please-”

“And _people_ -,” Alexander’s voice went up in volume, though it was clear Eliza wasn’t the one he was shouting at, “people who call themselves my friends, whom _I_ call my friends, go and spread around this harmful rumor like it’s the truth. And people who _aren’t_ my friends spread it too, because they know it’s damaging to me and my reputation! I don’t want to be remembered as Washington’s adoptive son! I want to be known as my own person, who worked hard to get to work with people like Washington. I want to be known as someone who did something important during his life. Just because I’m an orphan doesn’t mean I can’t get anywhere in life without the favors of others! I don’t want people to look at me as if I were some sort of beggar child on the street that people only feel pity for. I _don’t need to be pitied_ . All I ever wanted was some respect! Why is that so hard for people to understand?! _I don’t need anyone’s pity_!”

The shouting broke off into silence. Alexander breathed heavily, blood rushing through his head. He glanced around at the rest of the group as he realized he may have crossed the line. 

He recollected himself to actually process what he had just said. Explosions of such volume were not that rare when it came to him, but this was not the time. Who was he arguing with anyways? Who was he shouting at? Washington was long dead. Then why was he saying all of this? Why did he say all of those things? He found his emotions hard to manage sometimes, and would often let them off the rope. But now looking back, he didn’t really understand why. Was he… was he really that mad about something that had happened so long ago?

“I…” he took a deep breath, seeing as he was nearly hyperventilating before. His voice sounded quiet to him now that he spoke again, in contrast to the yelling from a few moments ago. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He settled back down into his seat, shooting Laurens an apologetic glance, seeing how he was presumably one of the people he’d been yelling at. John was looking rather concerned.

“I apologize. I’m… I just had a moment there. I didn’t mean any of that.”

“Hey, it’s alright buddy,” Laurens assured him, putting his hand on the other’s shoulder with his voice careful. “I didn’t know you felt like that. You were right to tell us about it if it really hurt you that much.”

Hamilton shook his head. “Forget about it. It doesn’t matter anyways. Goodness, I shouldn’t have yelled at all of you. I feel terrible.”

“You got it out of your system, so that’s good,” Hercules noted. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jefferson rolled his eyes, but it was visible in his posture he was more than bothered by Hamilton’s behavior, and the tone of his voice hinted that he was slightly startled by the outburst. “I’ll go ahead and play it. Next time, be so nice to keep your anger issues to yourself and don’t burden us with your temper tantrums, goodness gracious.”

< “Go home Alexander. That’s an order from your commander.” >

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, this chapter was pure emotions! And I love it. 
> 
> I’m trying to go two chapters per week now, so this can be finished in a month. However it’s really draining, and I’m not really sure I can write 7000 words a week. This chapter was over 4000 though! I really enjoyed writing it, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. 
> 
> Is Alexander alright, you might ask? Why of course he is. What a nonsensical question!
> 
> Also, Jefferson’s a bit of jerk during act one. But don’t worry, he’s just secretly salty that he isn’t the focus of the play yet. It will get better after his dramatic entrance.
> 
> Your lovely comments give me determination to keep going with this project! Thanks so much for all the positive responses. See you in the next one <3


End file.
